Just me. Thinking thoughts, living life, figuring it out as I go along.
And, no, I don't really know what I'm talking about.

Saturday, 24 November 2012

I Know

I know, this story should be over right?

Should be.

I emailed him the next day, a simple, neutral email. "Hey, just checking in like you asked. Have a good weekend."

He got back to me, asked for my number, said he had some things he wanted to talk about.

I gave him my cell number and he sent me a text.

I didn't know what to expect, but it was work related. (He knows I'm a spy, obviously, had some questions for me, no big deal.)

Sometime after dinner Saturday night, he texted again.

"Would it be ok if I stopped by quickly on my way out?"

"Um... vaguely?"

See, I'd already thought my way through everything. I won't sleep with a married man. I won't be "the other woman" but this was the first time I've understood just how easy it could be to become that person.

I don't know his wife. I've never met her, I don't know her name, what she looks like, she's a non person to me. And if I wanted to, I could just keep on with that thought, never ask about her, never want to know.

Because it wouldn't be that I wanted to date him or marry him, just that I wanted to see what it was like to sleep with him again. It would be that I was so caught up in the memories of what was and the idea of what might be that I would sleep with him, and no one would ever have to know.

Except I'm not that person. Maybe there's a part of me that is, and even a part of me that wants to be, but I'm not. So when he asked if he could stop by quickly, I knew that if he even hinted at anything, I'd be telling him I needed to see signed divorce papers first.

So I said, sure.

Because, I was curious too. And suspicious. I don't think it's ok for married men to be dropping by their exes houses. Especially not when said ex has just told them they were great in bed.

But maybe I was just assuming too much. Maybe he just wanted to drop off my stuff.